


Beneath Broadway Lights

by Fics4you



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Heartbreak, Self-Worth Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 08:58:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20561678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fics4you/pseuds/Fics4you
Summary: That’s where he found her.Once all was said and done and the theatre had become empty enough for Zen to hear his heart throbbing. Light pouring over her shoulders and trickling down her front while his pulse raced in time with every flash of a neon sign. As equally captivated as he was shattered at the sight of her face lifted to the inky sky.But he was too afraid not to hear her voice again, and selfishly so - he let her name escape.As she turned she brought the stars with her. Caught in her eyes as though the galaxies themselves were ablaze at the sight of him. Framed with the curls courtesy of the rain and the only warmth of the moment to be found in her cheeks.





	Beneath Broadway Lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fullofquirkyshit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullofquirkyshit/gifts).

Billboards held the cityscape in static neon fingers. Desperate, and halfway to clawing a way into the sky while night descended on the pavement. Blanketed not by stars, but by those that shone just as brightly on the sidewalk. The ordinary gleaming so extraordinarily as they clustered in constellations across the expanse of bars and narrow laneways. Light and laughter spilling over storefronts and clinging to skin like summer’s heat.

The excitement of the crowd winding around the theatre stole her attention instantly. Taken by the tides of anticipation swelling against the gutters, she was left captivated by the face that peered from the inky prison of production posters. With his handsome features framed by thick lashes and unruly tumbles of white hair, she was so entirely wrapped in his anguish that it took her a moment to remember to breathe. 

Lost like a child before the gates of a fairground; she only realises that she had stopped to scan the ticket booths once a hand tugged at hers. Pulling her from the otherworldly thickness that seemed to engulf the theatre, heavy and sweet, until she resurfaced from the spell with a shudder. The lights just a little brighter. The sounds a little louder. The night just a little more  _ alive _ . 

And, though drawn from the familiar name rippling through the crowd on the notes of siren songs, she couldn’t quite escape it’s call. It fell from her lips instead, intimate as it met the gaze of the man it belonged to. 

Nothing compared to the way Zen looked at her. Beneath the gaze of his universe, his everything, he glowed. Ruby eyes swimming in the brightness of his own name in lights and smile so dazzling it should come with a warning sign. He oozed certainty. And she had to admit, confidence suited him.

Zen drew her closer, cradling her to his side before continuing on their way. “Jagiya, you’re going to make me jealous.” 

“Jealous? What on Earth could the beautiful Zen have to be jealous about?”

“Hmm, I wonder…” The sonorous hum of his words caught in her hair, his cheek affectionate against the top of her head. “Mmm… Maybe it’s the way you’re staring at the posters rather than me? Hmm?” 

She let out a chuckle before hiding her burning cheeks against his neck. Breathless and bashful. “I’ll always only ever have eyes for you.”

“Really? But you’ve got to only look at me, alright? I’m not sure I could stand it if you didn’t. Huh? Promise me?”

Rounding the final corner, she stops in the shadows to graze a gentle kiss past Zen’s jaw. “I promise, Hyun. It will always be you.”

The clutching of his shirt and the muffled squeal she receives as a result set her heart soaring. Oh,  _ god  _ \- how could she ever get enough of this man? She wished she could bask in his flustered expression a little longer. The soft pinks of his cheeks and the way his eyes danced in the starlight were always enough to set her on fire. 

Still, lingering was a risk she wasn’t willing to take. Dipping her hand beneath his hood, she ran her fingers across his smoldering cheek. 

“You head on in, Zen. The show can’t go on without its star. I’ll see you in there, alright?”

\---

She had finally managed to peel Zen from her side with a little more convincing, ushering him towards the staff entrance to the theatre. And, though equally reluctant to part, she wasted no time in rushing back around to the ticket booths. It wasn’t that Zen hadn’t saved her the best seat in the house weeks in advance. He had, of course - and it was in the front row right where he could see her. But that wasn’t the point. 

She wanted to support him - in every way she could. Even if it came with a price tag, it was one she was more than willing to pay. But the sign that met her enthusiasm wasn’t entirely on board.

_ Tickets Sold Out. _

\---

Dejection followed her back around the theatre. She should have known, of course it would sell out. The musical was gold and Zen even more so. She was so proud and frustrated that she didn’t know exactly where to put her emotions. Scowling, but not defeated, she had no trouble promising that next time - well, next time she’d get a ticket for sure. 

The arm blocking her way came as a surprise. 

“Sorry, Miss. I can’t let you go any further.” 

It took her a moment, but she managed smiled up at the guard who was as stale as the cigarette smoke that clung to him.

“I’m sorry for coming in so late, I’m Zen’s plus one.”

The explanation did little good. He continued to assess her, scanning the lines of her faltering smile. 

“Of course you are,” he eventually grumbled, “can I see your pass?”

“Pass?”

“Pass,” he confirmed with a stiff nod, looking as though he knew full well that she didn’t have one. “They’re given to visitors by the staff.” 

Stumbling over words, panic strikes her expression. Zen hadn’t given her one. She imagined that he had intended to before she’d rushed off, of course, and that the piece of plastic granting her entrance would be resting cold in his coat pocket. Forgotten and completely useless. 

“I’m so sorry,” she started, watching the guard’s willingness to cooperate slowly close off. “It’s still in his pocket. I- um… You’d find it if you asked him! It’s just that I ran off before he could give it to me, it should say that i’m his girlfriend, and-” 

Through half lidded eyes, his disbelief was palpable. “Girlfriend?”

“Yes!” She brightened. “Yes, I was supposed to come through with him, but I wanted to-”

Her relief was short lived. 

“You and every other girl.”

“Pardon?”

The guard sighed and ran a hand across his face. “Look, lady, you’re the 7th girl I’ve had come through here claiming to be Mr. Zen’s partner. It’s getting a little hard to believe, you know?” 

Her cheeks flared. “I’m sorry, but I’m being serious here! If you go and ask him and collect my pass, he’ll tell you! Or I could call Hyun, and that would…” 

She trailed off, looking at the time displayed on the phone she’d just fumbled from her pocket. It would be far too late to expect him to respond. If she knew the play as back to front as Zen, and she’d argue that she did, he’d be on stage soon.

“I apologise, Miss.” The guard softened under her frustration, gentle and soothing. “I can’t go in and talk to the staff. You must have been looking forward to tonight, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. If you have a ticket, you can enter through the front, but without a visitor’s pass I can’t let you through. No matter if you’re one of Zen’s many imaginary girlfriends or not.”

“But-”

“Please,” he urged, “if you keep refusing, I’m not able to continue being so polite.”

\---

Zen was made to perform. Stepping onto a stage saw him come alive, every cell in his being buzzing with excitement beneath the spotlight as he took in the breath he needed to begin. 

He molded emotions as though they were built for him to craft.

Attention clung to him. Eyes drawn to the aura he fashioned with his motions, hearts beating in time with every agonising line he tore from his chest. The silences were heavy. Tangling in his hair with every pass of his hand and ringing through the dispassionate, self loathing laugh that shook his shoulders. Taking him over, consuming all he was in a flurry of swarming anxieties that gnawed at his being until he was hollow. The wind whistling through the hole that was once his heart. 

Not a breath was released as he moved across the stage. Every step measured; every stumble a dance that bit his knees when the ground called for him to buckle. 

She wasn’t there - and he’d noticed immediately.

Nothing pressed down on him more so than her absence. Not the weight of the character nor the mass of eyes rapped against his being. Even the stage lights, with their expectations, were nothing in comparison. His insecurities outweighed them all. 

Until he couldn’t tell who’s heartbreak he was wearing.

Could it really be his? It stung along with the tears he was already scheduled to shed, chilling the top of his torso and running icy from his shoulders. Worming its way into the stage floor he stared at, on his knees and head tucked. The strangled sound of his voice, the cracking and the soft agony playing the notes across his tongue, so truly his own. 

All because she wasn’t there. 

Maybe he’d sung his own praises one too many times. Polished his significance until it was so bright that it was blinding. Was it possible that he’d stared at his own image in the mirror with such desperation that he’d somehow managed to miss the sadness her eyes bore into his back from just beyond the entryway? The abandonment and the rejection? Hadn’t he somehow left her feeling inferior? Unable to reach the heights he scrambled for, clinging to the ledge of the impossible pedestal he was frantic to remain on.

Perhaps, while trying to rebuild the crumbling wall that was his own self confidence again and again and again, he had neglected hers. Were her hands, ragged after piecing him back together brick by cobbled brick, now too battered to hold herself -  _ themselves  _ \- together?

The violent twist of his gut confirmed it. 

The more Zen thought about it, the more he struggled to believe that he had ever deserved her in the first place. Not just in the front row of the theatre enraptured by his heart, but in his life all together. 

He wasn’t a great man. Hell, he’d argue that he wasn’t really a good one either. There were too many flaws in himself, and yet he’d gone and given all of them to her. Broken and bruised as he was, It was no wonder she stayed.

She pitied him. 

Zen took a deep, uneven breath before forcing the character he wore from the floor. He may not be able to give to her all she needed, but for now there was a theatre full of people who he could please. Who’s affections he could soak up beneath the stage lights - just for a moment. Just while his heart was breaking. 

\---

It had already started to rain. Mist would be more appropriate. A sprinkling that caught the light as it swirled much the same way as her thoughts did. Like suffocating sheets that don’t quite exist but clung to her lungs all the same. As though the clouds themselves had lowered to her level, wrapping her in an embrace that was more anxiety inducing than comforting. Damp and cold across her skin, seeping similarly across the asphalt. Dulling the colour of a painted sky until it was nothing but roiling grays.

The streets had emptied in an instant. While she waited with the stagnant sounds of the theatre between her shoulder blades, the buildings dotting the pathways had flooded with bodies. And, as the final colourful umbrella disappeared around the corner and vendors clatter their stores to a close, she found herself alone. 

She may not have been able to see him shine, but she knew he was.

Still, she remained, perched on the curb in the company of gutters and spluttering broadway lights. The mulling of music, it’s tune too faint and garbled through the hearts and walls it passes through, bounced against her back. Trapped between bated breaths and enraptured minds. Souls willingly tangled in the tale.

She could still pick out his voice. The gentle, distant melody just as sweet and familiar as it always had been. And, with her eyes closed, she could see him. See him working across the stage with the same agonised expression he’d donned as he’d paced their living room in practice. The same light in his eyes and confidence she knew full well that he deserved. 

It’s a gentle smile, but it tugged at her lips all the same. And, eventually, it became a little easier to breathe. Lost in the darkness of her own design, she waited with the cold biting her jeans and water collecting around her feet until the sounds drift into nothing. Until all that was left was her heart clinging to the smile she knew he’d be wearing as he took the stage as his own. 

That’s where he found her. 

Once all was said and done and the theatre had become empty enough for Zen to hear his heart throbbing. Light pouring over her shoulders and trickling down her front while his pulse raced in time with every flash of a neon sign. As equally captivated as he was shattered at the sight of her face lifted to the inky sky.

He was terrified to break the silence. The building behind him had long since lost its lively hum, but it was as though the night still remembered. As though she had soaked up all their was, and a single word would be enough to break the barriers and release it all. 

But he was too afraid not to hear her voice again, and selfishly so - he let her name escape. 

As she turned she brought the stars with her. Caught in her eyes as though the galaxies themselves were ablaze at the sight of him. Framed with the curls courtesy of the rain and the only warmth of the moment to be found in her cheeks. 

He’d been upset when he’d left. Desperate to scrub off the make up until his complexion was patchy, the mess of his character’s hair now his own - but with the soft smile she shed for him came a new wave of bitter self pity. Ugly and black. 

"You're here." 

It was a statement more than anything. One that tripped her up as she stood, her words coming in a rush while trying to regain her footing. "Zen! Finally, you're out. I-"

But he cut her off. Tone worn and faded, under eyes smudged with stage makeup and worry. "Did I do something?"

She stopped advancing immediately. Staring at him across the expanse of the sidewalk - him beneath the broadway lights while she lingered by the gutter. There was a beat, and she couldn’t tell if it's from time passing or the throb of her heart. 

"Pardon?"

"You weren't there, Jagiya."

"I know, but I can-"

"Did I maybe do something?" 

He didn’t look angry. Far from it, in fact. He looked resigned. As though it’s been such a long, exhaustive night that it was easier for him to accept every blow than fight back if he ever intended for it to end. 

“If I’ve upset you,” Zen continued, getting more and more desperate the longer he went on, “then please,  _ please  _ tell me so I can fix it.”

“Upset me?” 

“I looked for you, Jagi.” Trapped in his own self doubt and the panic bubbling in his chest, words spilled down his front. “I - god, huh, I waited for you. But you weren’t there. And just… It must have been my fault?”

She could see him spiralling. Clearly able to watch his descent into the darkened depths of a heart she’d unwittingly helped fracture. His own insecurities tangling around him, snaking into his chest and constricting his lungs. Stealing his air. Robbing him of any faith he had left in himself. 

But she tries to stop him. Tries to clasp his hand as he falls, calling out his name in an attempt to root him in the Earth. A few short steps and she was standing in front of him, Zen towering above her but threatening to crumble with every tremble that rocked through him. A tentative touch later and she was holding his hand. Unfurling his fist and smoothing out the crescent moons his nails had carved into the flesh of his palm. 

“Hyun,” she murmured, giving his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “I’m not following you. Please, calm down and try again?”

He nodded. Small and slow before letting out a shaky breath. “I’m not the easiest to love. Mm, I have a nice face, sure. A very nice face - I can’t deny it. But that’s all anyone ever sees. That’s not love. No one loves me like you. You make me feel important. Like everything I do has meaning. Like I’m the moon and stars, when that’s what you are to me, Jagi… What’s with that face, huh? You are, you know. You’re so important and beautiful and wonderful. But… did I not tell you that enough? Have I not been loving you enough for you to want to stay with me?”

“Hyun…”

“When you aren’t there…” Zen shrank into himself, shoulders curling and eyes darting to the floor. His teeth caught his bottom lip, worry working it raw. “I don’t have anyone.”

“Be careful there, baby,” she teased gently, laughing to ease the shaking of his hand in hers. “You’re other girlfriends will be heartbroken to hear you thinking so little of them.”

It only took a moment, but Zen’s eyes blew wide. Face contorting in panic as he processed her words and took her light hearted, remarkably ill-timed joke in the wrong direction. 

“Other girlfriends?” The words felt wrong in his mouth. Tongue bitter and lips unable to touch them for long. “Huh? Jagiya, what are you talking about? Other girlfriends? I could look at hundreds of pretty girls, and you’re the only one who - I don’t understand. Did you not come inside because you think I’m cheating on you?” 

It was her turn to panic. Reeling along with him as she frantically tried to pick up the pieces of his heart that she’d just managed to help him pick up. 

“Oh god no,” she exclaimed, hands latching onto his cheeks before he can recoil any further away. “No, Hyun! That’s not why I didn’t come in at all, I swear. I’m sorry, damn it, I’m so sorry! I’m out here because I tried to buy a ticket, but they were sold out and then security wouldn’t let me in.” 

Though mangled through the cheeks she was squeezing, arguably too hard but not enough for Zen to mind, she vaguely made out his words. 

“Why would you buy a ticket?”

“Because I wanted to support you…”

His eyebrows knitted together, and if she weren’t so concerned with fixing her own blunder, she’d spend hours kissing the adorable pout from his lips. 

“By accusing me of cheating?”

Screaming seemed like the appropriate response, but she controlled herself. “No no, I’m so sorry! That was a terribly timed joke.”

“You think?!”

“I just panicked.” She shifted from foot to foot, incredibly anxious in the hot water she’d put herself in. “I wanted you to laugh, and went with the first joke that popped into my head, I’m sorry.”

With her grip relaxing, Zen held her hands to his face. He almost smiled, the combination of relief and feeling of her so close near overwhelming. “Where did you come up with such a crazy idea, hmm?”

“The guard,” she groaned, hanging her head before snapping it back to attention. “He said other girls played the girlfriend card to get in and I thought it was funny. I just - baby, I don’t want you feeling sad about this. I sat here in the rain waiting for you, you know. Do you have any idea about what that means?”

Zen shook his head, but the light in his eyes began to return. A low, warm smoulder that churned in ruby rivers. 

Dislodging one of her hands from his, she worked her fingers through his dishevelled hair; clearing his face and peering into it with as much adoration as she could muster. “It means I love you, silly. So much so that I can’t breathe without you.”

“You really mean it?”

“I do. There will be plenty of other shows, and I’ll go to each and every one you invite me to. I’ll just have to preorder my ticket from now on. Okay?”

Zen nodded, choking out an ‘I love you’ before burying his face in her neck. Engulfed in the scene of her, swallowed whole by her warmth and adoration, his heart finally settled. And, with every pass of her palm over his back, the patterns she worked into his muscles eased him. Her touch came to rest in his hair, fingers winding through the strands to anchor him to her. 

“It’s okay, Sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere without you, I promise. Let's go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to fullofquirkyshit for commissioning this piece ~
> 
> Normally I'm notorious for writing mysme fics that never get finished or see the light of day, so it was really nice to complete this. I adore the challenge of exploring Zen's inner demons and self-worth issues, so I hope you enjoy!


End file.
